


A Quick Guide to Mathematical Jargon

by ivyleagueLT



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Math Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-12
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyleagueLT/pseuds/ivyleagueLT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate is shown that there is a bright side to college calculus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quick Guide to Mathematical Jargon

**Author's Note:**

> This is horrendously unbeta'd so I'm sorry for any mistakes you come across. I proofread it three times. I was somewhat hesitant to even post it but I mean it's Brad and Nate with glasses, math, and French porn. I had to do it on principle alone.

 “I’m going to have to implant a tracking device in you soon. You are nearly impossible to locate.” Brad whispered as he slid up behind Nate whose nose was buried in his Calculus notes. Nate was hidden in the very back of the library, where the books turn into heavy tomes and dust covers every inch of available space.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t already.” Nate smiled as he spoke, watching Brad drop down in the chair next to him. “Are you actually planning to work, Colbert or are you just here as a distraction technique?”

“Neither really. Walt got out of class early so Ray tore out of the coffee house as fast as possible so I’m sure they are in some dirty art classroom with Ray no doubt dry humping the fuck out of Walt’s head.” Nate can’t help the snort he let out at the image, so close to the actual truth about his friends. “What are you working on?”

“Calculus, also known as the class that makes me want to gouge out my own eyes with a rusted grapefruit spoon,” Nate took off his glasses before dropping his head onto his book, admitting defeat.

“Let me see.” Brad pulled the book out from under Nate’s head. He stared for a few minutes before taking Nate’s pencil and solving the algorithm much faster than Nate could have ever hoped. “There.”

“Are you shitting me right now?” Nate stared at his notebook in disbelief, eyes darting back and forth from Brad’s work to his book before settling on Brad’s face. “Are you shitting me,” Nate repeated.

“No, I’m not.” Brad sat back, stretching his legs out under the table, the hem of his shirt baring the smallest bit of too-tan-for-Boston-in-the-winter skin. “Want me to show you?” Nate replied by pushing his work over in front of Brad and pulling his chair close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from Brad’s side. Brad redid the arithmetic twice for Nate who picked it up much quicker than he ever had from the teacher.

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Nope,” Brad answered smugly, earning himself a shove from Nate. “Here,” Brad wrote out a moderately difficult problem for Nate to solve, “you do it.” Nate stared, a bit unsure at first until he remembered some of the techniques Brad had told him. Brad checked it when he was done, “I’m impressed Fick, it seems like there might be more to you than a nice pair of lips and green eyes.” Nate blushed a furious red. “Let’s try one more.” Brad wrote out another problem for Nate who solved it in just a matter of minutes. “Okay, let’s try something different,” Brad said as he turned his and Nate’s chairs so they were facing each other, knees brushing, “come here.” Brad wrapped his hand around Nate’s wrist and tugged him closer, pulling him until Nate was standing over Brad. “Sit.” Nate chewed his lip nervously before straddling Brad in the chair, hands hanging awkwardly at his sides. “Now recite the problem for me,” Brad looked Nate in the eye as his hands settled over his thighs, warmth bleeding through the denim, scalding Nate’s skin.

He stumbled through the first part, having to backtrack in order to remember the numbers and derivatives, making sure to keep his eyes focused on some imaginary object to the right over Brad’s shoulder. He forgot altogether what he was even saying when he felt strong hands sliding up the inside of his thighs to his hips. Brad’s hands stopped at the button of his jeans. “Keep going.” Nate had to close his eyes against the feeling and focus on the math. He started back up again and so did Brad’s fingers. Before he was even half way through Brad’s fingers had popped the button and undone the zipper of his jeans; now Brad was just teasing the skin over the waistband of his boxer-briefs, listening to Nate stumble over the answer. Nate knew he was totally off on the problem and Brad wasted no time correcting him, the image of Brad speaking math to him while his hand cupped his cock through his underwear hit Nate so hard he had to close his eyes and rest his head against Brad’s shoulder.

“Fuck Brad.”

“Finish the problem, Nate.” Nate took a moment to compose himself and snuck a glance at his notes on the table beside Brad before shakily finishing the problem. “Good job, now we know you can do calculus under pressure,” Brad whispered into Nate’s skin has he finally wrapped a hand around Nate’s throbbing cock. “Who knew math was one of your kinks?”

“I could say the same for you.” Nate licked his lips and grinned down at Brad with too bright green eyes, rolling his hips forward into the tight fist of Brad’s hand. “Damn, Brad-. “  Nate could barely choke out the words as Brad sped up, twisting his wrists on every other upstroke. Brad’s free hand bracketed the side of Nate’s face before pulling him down, lips brushing his own but never taking what they wanted. Nate could feel a line of sweat rolling down his back as his orgasm built inside him. His breath coming in hot puffs over Brad’s face who took it in like it was pure oxygen. “Brad, please,” Nate’s eyes held Brad’s as his orgasm slammed him full force. He spilled hot and long over Brad’s fist and his own stomach, catching just the corner of his shirt and the rest dripping off his cock onto the little bit of thigh that was exposed.

Nate grabbed Brad’s fingers and brought them to his mouth, licking the taste of himself from Brad’s knuckles, making the most broken, desperate sounds in the process. Brad’s hips bucked upwards on instinct, nearly displacing Nate as he moaned out his appreciation of the spectacle. “You know, I’ve been having trouble with French, think you could help,” the chance of getting to hear Nate speak French making Brad’s cock twitch hard in his jeans.

“Je pense que je pourrais être en mesure d'aider.”

 


End file.
